


Of Him They Do Not Sing

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Celebrían asks her father to explain why the Silvan were singing of Denethor being the forgotten king. He does so, and then sings the ode for her.





	Of Him They Do Not Sing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Ode to Arda challenge in the LotR Community Challenge on livejournal. My word pairing for the challenge was spring/king. 
> 
> Quoting from my author's notes over there "I tried writing this, specifically a pindaric ode because I am bad at meter (really, at any type of structured poetry). Also, there's a surrounding story that explains where this ode comes from, because it felt lacking on its own. Title borrows inspiration from Tolkien's poem about Gil-galad ("Of him the harpers sadly sing")"
> 
> I am not a poet. :P I think this fits Legendarium Ladies April, since Celebrían is the driver of the story. If it doesn't, somebody tell me.

“Adar, did you ever meet Denethor when he was king of the Nandor?” Celebrían looked up at her father from where she was propped up her bed, waiting for him to tell her a goodnight story.  
  
Celeborn nodded. “Yes, I did. Why do you wish to know?”  
  
“I heard some of the Silvan elves singing a song by the river this  morning, but I didn’t get to hear the whole thing, only a bit about he who is forgotten. Why do they think he is forgotten, Ada? I know who he is,” she said.  
  
“You are an exceedingly bright child, who is related to both the Nandor and the Sindar of Doriath through myself. Outside of the realms composed of the Sindar and Silvan elves, I doubt many have heard of him. Certainly the Noldor do not remember him, compared to their own kings and princes, and those that do see him as a fool who wasn’t wearing proper armor and therefore brought about his own doom,” he said.  
  
“But didn’t most of the Noldor wear armor and still die?” she said.  
  
“Well, yes, though you probably shouldn’t let your mother hear you say it that bluntly.” He winked, then looked as though he was considering  
something. “I can sing the whole ode for you, if you wish, though it’s not as cheerful as your normal stories are.”  
  
“I want to hear it, please, Ada!”  
  
“Very well,” Celeborn said and then began to sing.  
  
_Once in the early spring,_  
_of Adra Marred and Morgoth’s reign,_  
_there was a long forgotten king,_  
_who ruled the woods where he was slain_  
_and whose death heralded those Morgoth was yet to bring._  
_Sing of him, Lords of Elves and Kings of Men._  
  
_He was brought low_  
_for Thingol could not reach his hill,_  
_and his followers could not stop the blow,_  
_that laid him down and still,_  
_never again to fight such a foe._  
_Sing, sing, of how they never fought again._  
  
_His father was Lenwë,_  
_king of the Nandor,_  
_not Finwë,_  
_king of the Noldor,_  
_nor Elu nor Ingwë._  
_Sing of he who is thus forgotten._  
  
_Who shall remember him,_  
_who died ere the jewels_  
_brought doom upon everyone?_  
_Not Maglor, whose singing is now dim,_  
_nor Daeron, who sings of only one._  
_Shall anyone sing of him?_  
  
“Well, you can sing of him,” Celebrían said. “And if I ever have children, I can sing the same ode to them, and then more of us will remember him.”  
  
Celeborn laughed. “You can, and I think that would please those you heard singing it this morning. But for now, don’t you think you should go to sleep?”  
  
“Do I have to?” she asked, looking at the books sitting on her table.  
  
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if you read one more chapter before going to bed, but then you have to go to sleep. After all, it will be much harder to continue your plot to remind your future children of Denethor’s existence if you become so sleep deprived you waste away into a book spirit,” he teased.  
  
“Ada! Book spirits aren’t real,” Celebrían scolded.  
  
“Oh, they aren’t? See, you are already schooling your poor father in things.”  
  
Celebrían rolled her eyes. “I promise I’ll only read one more chapter, if you’ll teach me that ode tomorrow.”  
  
“I promise,” he said and stood up to leave, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”  
  
“Goodnight, Ada,” she said back, already choosing which book she wanted and finally selecting one on the history of the Sindar in the early Second Age. “See you in the morning.”  
  
Celeborn left, grimacing once he was through the doorway because of how hard it was to not flinch when reminded of how Denethor was neglected by history.

**Author's Note:**

> Celebrían is going to force remembrance on everybody, if she has to follow Gil-galad around singing at the top of her lungs. 
> 
> Don't think she won't, because she is a tiny force of nature and will have her way. Also, she partially married Elrond because of his books. :P


End file.
